Lack of Pride and Loss of Prejudice
by iluvwitch
Summary: Modern girl gets stuck in Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, yes it's been done before but this is better; I think. Please review and enjoy :
1. Chapter 1

Tea with the Bennets

Chapter 1

The little white door in my bedroom used to frighten me as a young girl, even now as a young woman I often jump in fright when it catches the wind and abruptly slams shut. It leads to a rather small cupboard that runs along the space of the wall, and due to slanted roof in my bedroom, it is only possible to crawl in there.

The light bulb stopped working in there when I was about seven and has never been replaced. Even now the doorknob still hangs off the wonky screw that has been there as long as I can remember. As a result of many reasons I do not go in there anymore, unless it is necessary of course.

Next to the door sits my bookshelf, piled high with both ridiculously childish stories and widely acknowledged novels. But on the top shelf stands the most precious of them all; Jane Austen. Classic edition, paperback, ones that look so old you might think them a bible if it were not for the beautiful gold writing on the spine, which clearly tells the world that it is not. Every page examined feverishly by a young girl who dreamt of parties, dresses, society and above all, love.

In the company of others I would brush such subjects as love away with a mere snarky comment or two and be done with it. But at night I would spend hours poring over all sorts of life threateningly romantic novels and always crying at the end. I would sob for what must have been hours for what I knew was not possible in my world. The rational men of today or in fact any time were not knights in shining armour who rode up on their horses to save the day. In my world, where was no such thing as love at first sight, as desperate beginnings and happily ever afters.

That is simply who I am. I, Isabella Hartwell, refuse to get my own hopes up and let them be broken. And if there were such a thing as true love and happy endings, who was I to deserve one?

And yet, in my heart of hearts, every time I read another book, every time I saw another film, I could not help but know that was what I wanted. What I have always wanted. And Jane Austen understands that.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I stare at my old bedroom with sickening nostalgia. I hate memories, no matter how happy. They always seem to make themselves seem better than the present and I cannot deny that I have an awful habit of feeling undeniably sorry for myself. The room seems so much smaller now but then I suppose I have grown. I don't feel grown up, I feel as scared and unsure as ever.

I sit on my now small bed and give a rather self-pitying sigh but suddenly jump a foot in the air and let out a screech as the little white door rattles without warning. "Stupid door" I mutter spitefully and resume my seat on the bed, wondering where the draft had come from. With little hesitation or pause for thought I swing the little door open and there to my surprise, standing hunched over in a regency era dress, is a woman who I do not know.

"AAAAAAHHHH!" "AAAAAHHHH!" we both start to screech simultaneously, her with as much fright and surprise as me, and I swiftly and firmly shut the door. The empty house is silenced again. I take a deep breath and try to lower my heart rate before clenching the doorknob and once again open the little white door.

"AAAHH!" I scream again half-heartedly whilst the woman looks pale. "You're still there" I point and clutch my forehead as the woman steps out of the cupboard with a wary look about her.

"It seems I am Madam, do excuse my excitement, only I am not all that used to having such life-like dreams. However you do not seem like something out of real life at all now that I look at you" the strange woman examines me like a strange specimen, crosses way over the personal boundary as she stares inches away from my face before giving my cheeks a harsh pinch and I yelp in pain.

"But you do seem real enough, how very strange" she continues and starts to pace about the room. I stand speechless as she examines the walls of my old room covered in photos and drawings from my early teenage years. "Pray, tell me your name" the woman turns back to me abruptly and many moments pass whilst I gawp like a fish at the strange lady.

"My name is Isabella Hartwell, who the hell are you? And what are you doing in my house?" I find my tongue and begin to stare the woman down with as much condemnation as I can manage.

"Do calm down Miss Hartwell, for I am as much the victim as you. My name is Elizabeth Bennet but since you are a figment of my imagination you may call me Lizzie" she raised an amused eyebrow as I started to laugh out loud at her words.

"Oh forgive me dearest Lizzie for I did not recognise you" I played along with this ridiculous hallucination I was having. "But I must regret to tell you that you are a figment of my imagination" I chuckled at the confused face of one of my most beloved heroines.

"I assure you Miss Hartwell" she began but I now confidently butted in saying "Please do call me Izzy" I smiled triumphantly again at what she obviously did not understand.

"Izzy, I assure that you are in fact a rather strange figment of my imagination and I will not permit my own imagination to torment me so" she announced causing me to raise my eyebrows in disbelief.

"There is no point denying it dear Lizzie, I have finally gone mad thanks to too much bloody Jane Austen" I shook my head as if it didn't matter anymore, truly in the belief that I was losing the plot. "But it was worth it" I smiled fondly as I picked up my mother's edition of Pride and Prejudice, and then gestured to the rest of the shelf.

"Well Miss Izzy, if I am not dreaming, why did I open the door to the pantry, hear it shut behind me then find myself in your tiny peculiar cupboard?" Lizzie argued back, seemingly determined not to be beaten.

"I don't know but I suppose I'll find out when I end up in your pantry, wont I?" I laughed as I grabbed my handbag off the bed and bent over to climb into my old cupboard.

"Oh dear God, is this a pantry I see before me?" I teased my own hallucination and gestured around the back the empty cupboard, turning my back to the woman.

"Oh you insufferable woman" I was surprised to see that madness had gone as far as the woman being able to kick the door shut behind me and grabbled in the dark for a moment.

Quickly finding the door and pushing it open, I found it was a lot heavier than I remembered and as it opened I found a cold wind hit me, much colder than anything from my little bedroom. I look around wildly, my eyes unaccustomed to the darkness and rush to a near window where the moon gleams through and from there I see that I am standing in a large unfamiliar kitchen. Rushing back to the door I see that just as Elizabeth had said, it is a large pantry and without thinking I climb in and squeeze my eyes shut. I stand there for God knows how many minutes, feeling ill and swaying minutely from side to side.

"Isabella, Isabella dearest" I hear a voice with feels familiar to me and fling open the door to find that I am still in the same old kitchen only know there is an old man who joins me in a rather comical nightgown, like something out of Charles Dickens. "Izzy dear, what would your mother say if she saw you down in the pantry at this time of night. Why she'd positively have a fit" the old man's eyes sparkled humorously at this, as though he almost liked the idea. "Oh I know I am cruel" he continued when I did not reply and ushered her out of the pantry. "Don't forget your book dear" he picked up Pride and Prejudice which had been lying open face down on the floor.

"But my handbag, where's my handbag?" I panicked at the remembrance of it and scrambled around on the floor in despair.

"You can find the thing tomorrow, it is late and dark, now off to bed with you my dear" he kissed my forehead before heading out of the room and I was forced to follow as the light of the moon was now dim and hardly there at all. What a strange man he is.I follow him upstairs and that is when I realise that this must be Mr Bennet and this must be the Bennet house.

"Goodnight dearest Isabella" the old man smiled fondly and hands me my book before continuing down the corridor and into his bedroom. I look at the door which I had stopped in front of and opened it tentatively. Nobody sounds from inside and I see a candle lit beside an empty bed. I close the door behind me and tiptoe carefully to the bed as my strangely bare feet cannot stand the cold wooden floorboards. This is when I look down at myself and see that I no longer wear my old jeans and warm hoodie, but a white nightgown, just as ridiculous as Mr Bennet's. I quickly to the dressing table opposite the bed and am relieved to find that it is still my own face that stares back at me.

I collapse onto the bed still clutching Pride and Prejudice to my chest. At least I can rely on Jane Austen in my time of need. I open the book at a random page but find that it is blank and so are the next, and the next, and the one after that. Startled by this, I go back to the beginning of the book and find that only the very first line remains. Only it is different and as I read it, my head feels like it might implode.

"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a young woman who finds herself in a strange new place, must be in want of an adventure".


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Is that the sound of a cockerel? What on earth would a cockerel be doing in the middle of Surrey? In fact what would it be doing, so close to my bedroom? Mrs Halliday used to own chickens but that was years ago, and they live at least five houses away. I bury my head in my pillow as the blasted animal cries out again.

"What do you want from me?" I shout as I sit up in bed and rub my eyes. As I look around the unfamiliar room it dawns on me. It was not a dream. And I am not mad. Well probably not. I am living the life of Elizabeth Bennet.

"Isabella, Isabella get up, it is nearly ten" a squawking worse than the cockerel, in my opinion, started drowning me and the almost peacefulness of someone else's room.

"Miss Bennet will you get out of bed this instant" I recognised the woman as Mrs Bennet as she strode in and yanked the covers away from me, exposing me to the frosty morning breeze.

"I am not Miss Bennet, please go away" I snapped back and laid back down on the bed whilst Mrs Bennet simply stared in disbelief.

"Izzy if you don't get out of that bed so help me I will scream" the woman persisted and I was forced to get out of bed. "Now get dressed for I have exciting news" Mrs Bennet continued before bustling out the room.

The sun is already streaming through the small window of my room and as I draw the curtains, I glimpse the beautiful gardens of the Bennet house and feel lightheaded at the thought. Me, in the Bennet's house. Me, Isabella Hartwell, part of the Bennet family. Perhaps I've died and gone to Heaven. Either that or I am definitely mad. Maybe something terrible has happened to me. Maybe I am in a coma or maybe this is simply some beautiful dream, just like Elizabeth said it was.

And where is Elizabeth? If this is real and I am stuck here, is she stuck in my old house? Is she living the life of a modern woman whilst I must live the life of a woman without TV, mobiles, fast food, tampons, paracetamol, toothbrushes, running water, decent hygiene, makeup, the internet, and good chocolate – oh fuck.

I take several deep breaths as I approach the dressing table and sit down. Again I am slightly comforted to see that I am still the person who stares back at me. Now that I look at myself, I look pretty good. My long hair looks as if it hasn't been abused by straighteners and hair dryers for ten years. The dark circles under my eyes are almost completely gone and there is not a single blemish across my whole face. Maybe the air is cleaner here, or maybe I'm just imagining it as usual. I now notice that my long hair is plaited even though I have no memory of doing it myself and it is just as mysterious as the strange nightgown that I wear.

"Oh bollocks" the words escape my mouth as something occurs to me. With trembling lips I bare my teeth to the mirror and am relieved to see that they are how I left them and not a rotting brown colour.

"Hhhmmm" I frowned as I looked at the clothes that had been set out on the end of my bed, presumably by a servant as I could not imagine Mrs Bennet doing anything like this herself. There were some baggy pant thingies which I got on quite easily. Then some kind of thin undergarment dress which was simple enough.

"Oh" I muttered quietly as I spotted the strange corset like device and began to struggle with it for several minutes.

"Do you need some help Miss?" I turned to see a young servant girl looking rather worried at my efforts to something clearly impossible by myself.

"If you don't mind" I indicated to the laces which waited to be done up. I caught a glimpse of the girl's skilled hands as they worked swiftly down the length of my back. "Thanks, you're a life saver" I smiled before continuing with a pair of incredibly long white socks.

"Umm will you be needing help with your dress madam?" the nervous girl asked again and I looked over at the dress in confusion.

"Now that you mention it, those buttons do look pretty tricky" I admitted and she helped me to get it on securely.

"Thanks again but I think I can handle the rest myself. What's your name?" I asked curiously as the hovered in the doorway, obviously unsure whether she was allowed to leave.

"Agnes miss" the girl looked terrified now as I approached her.

"Cheers Agnes" I smiled before closing the door, with her on the other side.

Descending the staircase, I walk towards the sound of voices behind a slightly open door.

"What a fine thing for our girls" I heard Mrs Bennet say happily before Mr Bennet replied "How so? How can it affect them?" "My dear Mr Bennet" his wife began but I stepped in before she had finished.

"Sorry to butt in but I think I probably have some explaining to do on behalf of Elizabeth" I smiled uncomfortably.

"Of who?" Mrs Bennet almost shouted in confusion.

"Of Elizabeth Bennet" I tried to explain but their faces were still blank.

"Mr Bennet do we have a relation by the name of Elizabeth" Mrs Bennet asked suspiciously and I felt like screaming.

"No I don't believe we do" the man replied with a similar look of bewilderment.

"Elizabeth Bennet, your second daughter" I almost exploded at how stupid this was becoming. They stared at me before starting to laugh like madmen.

"You quite had us there dear Isabella, but perhaps you could come up with someone other than yourself next time" Mr Bennet chuckled with amusement whilst Mrs Bennet had quickly grown tired of it.

"But I'm not your daughter" I protest but Mrs Bennet is having none of it.

"Oh Izzy, I grow tiresome of you, excuse yourself" she pushed me through the door then abruptly closed it behind me.

"Well they are just charming" I mumbled sarcastically to myself. Wondering through the house I find Mary playing the piano in rather painful enthusiasm, Kitty and Lydia giggling like five year olds and lastly Jane sitting amongst the madness with a calm, almost happy expression.

"Izzy" she exclaimed and rose from her chair with grace like a swan.

"Jane" I tried to act as if I weren't surprised by her delighted greeting. "Are we sisters?" I quickly ask as we both sit down and she nods amusedly.

"And my name's Isabella, not Elizabeth?" I check again and again she smiles and nods. "Describe my face to me, just in case my mirror is lying to me" I order anxiously and Jane frowns.

"You are quite out of sorts, are you well?" she asks gently taking my hand.

"Yes I'm fine, everything is fine" I try to assure both her and myself.

"Good, now describe your appearance you say. Well you have green eyes that sparkle with life, like emeralds and long hair that I could only dream of. It is the colour of sweet honey and has gentle waves that remind me of the seaside. You have skin as fair as any and cheeks that blush like roses in summer" Jane finished her poetic speech and I stood up.

"Thank you Jane, that was … lovely but now you must excuse me, for I intend to take a walk" I stood up and sprinted out into the garden in a most unladylike way I'm sure.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Elizabeth Bennet stared at the peculiar young lady's room and what a peculiar room it was, although admittedly the carpet was incredibly soft to the touch and covered the whole floor which was quite impressive. The style of the furnishings however were incredibly out of touch from any sort of fashion and would have shocked even Mary with her exclamations that she did not care for style.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

I frowned as I spotted a carriage approaching the house from the upstairs window, before picking up my book again and continuing back towards Elizabeth's room after breakfast, like I had done for several days before. This was not to say that I was calm about the whole thing but I find reading books that I do not understand reminds me very much of whom I am and who I am not.

"Oh dear" I mumbled as I past Mrs Bennet's door and heard the usual worried questioning of one Bennet girl from within and rolled my eyes before deciding that perhaps the downstairs would be more suitable for sitting quietly. One step at a time I carefully placed my feet on each step, going at a cautious snail's pace for good measure. In the short time I had been stuck within my own insane imaginings, I had already three nasty bruises from tumbling down the stairs. One bruised knee, one bruised elbow and a particularly nasty bruise on my forehead which Mrs Bennet had fussed over endlessly, quite concerned that men do not want bruised ladies.

"Isabella!" there was the familiar shriek of Mrs Bennet and realising that this might be my only escape, I quickly jumped over the last few steps but found that I had not quite got the hang of the dress and stumbled forward towards the door, only stopping when Mr Bennet caught my arm.

"Do try to be more careful dear" he smiled then seemed to take an interest in the book I was still clutching to. "Didn't you read that last year?" he seemed confused but I was so desperate to get away from Mrs Bennet that I hardly noticed.

I spent the rest of the day in the kitchens, having pulled up a stool next to the pantry which seemed to unnerve the servants slightly, but I took no notice and continued to read. It was only when I was forced to come to dinner that I heard that the carriage had in fact been one of the infamous Bingley's.

"Izzy dear, where have you been all day? Mr Bingley has been and gone yet you show no sign of interest, asking your father nothing of the man" Mrs Bennet scolds me, obviously still peeved that I show no sign of caring for Mr Bingley nor his carriage.

"Mr Bingley! Mr Bingley! Is he all we can talk of?" Mr Bennet interrupts agitatedly, before I can reply and takes another slug of the peculiar tasting wine.

"Oh you just wait till the officers arrive" I mutter to myself, only receiving a strange look from Jane who seems to be the only one listening.

"Dearest Mr Bennet, will not you tell us more of the man?" Mrs Bennet continued encourage her husband persistently whilst I simply rolled my eyes at the whole silly business, realising now how very little happened in the Bennet household.

"Does anyone fancy a game of chess?" I asked on the spur on the moment, wondering whether it was even something people played at this time and this was answered by the blank faces of the Bennet family. "I thought it would a nice change, that's all" I mumbled miserably and poked the rather disgusting looking piece of meat that sat on my plate.

It was not soon after that Mrs Bennet started to fret about Mr Bingley again, in fact she had hardly stopped since his visit. Unfortunately it seemed that there was no way I was getting out of the assembly where we would all be meeting the man himself, his sisters, the husband of the eldest and of course Mr Darcy. Mr Darcy. Me, meeting Mr Darcy! Can you imagine?

Thoughts such as these circled my mind for the next week, something I could not of course discuss with even Jane, who may I mention is spectacularly boring. I mean at least Lydia and Kitty were good for a laugh, Mary provided endless entertainment with her efforts to be quite the intellectual young lady, even Mrs Bennet provided some amusement, but dear perfect Jane is simply … dull.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

It had been a particularly restless and boring day when I found I could no longer sit silently and attempt to embroider another bloody piece of cloth, with my ridiculously easily pleased sisters. I found Mr Bennet in the usual place, reading yet another book and asked whether there was a horse I could use.

"You can use the carriage dear, who has the pleasure of your visit? Are your sisters going with you?" he asked in response, hardly taking his eyes away from his book.

"I'm not visiting anyone, I just want to go for a ride" I replied defensively and received a questioning look from my apparent father. However, after many a curious questioning, he reluctantly agreed to let me go and that is how I ended up in this bloody mess.

Of course like most people I have hardly ever ridden a horse and certainly never whilst having both legs on one side like the bloody Queen of England. This was quickly solved though when I managed to grab a man's shirt and the other necessary garments off the washing line without any servants noticing. I had the horse saddled and started a very gentle pace, for the first time since I had arrived feeling free and not all cooped up like a bird in a cage. This fresh feeling of liberty soon vanished however, when the horse decided that it also wanted freedom and did not like having a cross dresser on its back.

"Slow down you bloody animal" I shout at the determined creature, desperately clinging to the reins and praying that I would not break backside. The horse ignores and keeps going for what feels miles until it seems to slow down and for a moment I truly believe that I have got lucky. That is until I suddenly feel myself being propelled off the back of the horse and I am flying through the air, then of course very quickly falling towards a large lake.

"AAHHHHH!" I shriek moments before I hit the murky water and feel my head being plunged under.

"Sir!" someone calls as I come up for air and the now very pungent smell of the filthy water hits me. Another splash follows soon after the call and I feel someone grab my waist, pulling me towards the shore. Actually they could be pulling me anywhere since I can hardly see a thing for keeping my eyes squeezed shut and preventing any dirty water getting in, but I assume hopefully that the shore is the intended target. Sure enough I am dragged onto the grass, still sputtering and gasping for air.

"Oh Lord!" my mysterious savour exclaims and I hear them scramble to their feet, whilst I continue to blink at rub at my eyes. I look up and everything comes back into focus. There standing in front of me looking rather offended but mostly surprised is a tall, well-built and very handsome man who could not be mistaken for anyone else, standing there in his sopping wet shirt.

"Mr Darcy" I whisper breathlessly and do not even attempt to drag my eyes away from him.

"You're a woman" his surprise had turned swiftly into a look of furious indignation that did not suit his features quite so well.

"Sorry to disappoint" I could not help but tease as I got up and found that I had in fact twisted my ankle quite badly, nearly falling back down. Again Mr Darcy came to my rescue but a lot more reluctantly than before, still looking generally hostile.

"And your hair! Your hair is down!" he pointed out and I simply shrugged my shoulders in response. "And you're wearing gentlemen's clothes!" he continued, sounding very alarmed.

"If we are going to stand here and point out all my faults Sir, I'm afraid we might be here an awfully long time" I raised an eyebrow and he was silenced indefinitely.


End file.
